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  artistry | discourse | presence
gary e. davis
August 27, 2017

Ending is no closure. An end, as such, is horizonal, a mark in living time for the living that’s primordially enspiriting, aspirational, open, futural, individuating, progressing, evolving.

Consider Cycle 2 of as discursive singularity.

I presume you won’t.

Yet, it’s there. It can be done—and would be fun for me.

But I have better things to do than discern telic cohering of the authorship
across my texts.

You may do that, finding some discourse indeed—ours?

I wouldn’t know how kindred you would make us. But again, I presume you, too,
have better things to do.

“Doing things,” how strange. A tree weathers another storm, an authoriality lives another day to work some more.

I can feel serene composure while being under the stars—or seeing the city from a hill by thick woods above my place. Yet, there’s fascinating phenomenality everywhere, and enthralling times enough—phenomenogeny of phenomenality, presencing presents.

I, too, want “a profound and vital erotic the cosmic surround....,”
but apart from Kaja’s want, I want the divine comedy of aspiring to comprehend all mentalities (without losing my sense of humor).

So it goes in being with: We’re always also apart.

The heavens say ultimate sense is always historized within the evolving
that historizes.

Anyway, aspiring to some grandly phenomenal artistry of wholly flourishive humanity lets learning never end; and keeps life fun.

We are the Earthlings gardening our capacity for evolutionary self-design.

And really, of course, the heavens stay silent.


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